


I Could Treat You Better But I'm Not That Smart

by pixiegold



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drunk Sex, Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Fluff and Angst, I Don't Even Know, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, POV Multiple, Porn With Plot, Relationship(s), Sharing a Bed, Some Plot, Tags Are Hard, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 17:46:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4029022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixiegold/pseuds/pixiegold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rogue doesn't know what's changed between them, but when Sting comes home drunk one night and tries to make him listen, will he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Could Treat You Better But I'm Not That Smart

Rogue didn't understand love for the longest time. He fumbled around with definitions and clumsy explanations, until one day he looked at Sting curled up on their sofa, sunlight hitting his hair in just the right way, and then, finally, it clicked into place. Love wasn’t just a word anymore, it was a tangible thing, in front of him yet still not close enough to touch. In truth, Sting probably knew how Rogue felt, probably saw the change in Rogue’s eyes and movements, letting Sting take the shower first so he could have the hot water, letting Sting have the last slice of pizza. But he never mentioned it, acting as if nothing had changed as Sting grew further and further away from him. Rogue tried to appreciate it, even as Sting brought home girls and made them scream in the room next to him, he tried to appreciate the pretend blindness and the fake normality, even as Sting stumbled home drunk more often than he came home sober.

 

It was one of the nights where Sting stumbled home drunk, and Rogue was sat cross-legged on the sofa with a book, pretending like he couldn’t hear Sting’s many failed attempts to get his key in the door. Sting finally burst through the door, slamming loudly against the wall behind it and making Rogue jump slightly at the sudden sound. 

 

“Rogue!” Sting yelled, and Rogue tried not to be pleased that he was alone. 

 

“Hey Sting.” Rogue responded without emotion, not looking up from the book and deliberately flipping the page hard to prove that he wasn’t interested in a conversation. Sting ignored the obvious signs and threw himself onto the sofa next to him, making Rogue look up with a raised eyebrow. He had dealt with Sting drunk before, but normally they kept their distance, making sure that whatever girl he brought home was gone by the time Rogue was awake and making breakfast, or falling into bed without even making eye contact. 

 

“I missed you.” Sting said cryptically, trying to get his shoes off of his feet and failing miserably. Rogue looked back at his book again, not taking in any of the words there. 

 

“You saw me less than four hours ago.” Rogue said emotionlessly, eyebrows furrowing as he ‘concentrated’. Sting giggled and flipped onto his front, face right next to Rogue’s thigh. Rogue tried to ignore him, failing as his breath tickled his skin through the rips in his jeans. Rogue honestly didn’t want to have a conversation with Sting right now, not when he was drunk and nonsensical, he remembered the last time they had had a conversation when Sting was drunk. It had just resulted in them yelling at each other and Sting throwing a glass at his head, so he tried not to remember that.

 

“No, you!” Sting exclaimed, studying the rips in Rogue’s black jeans like they were the most interesting things in the world. “Before you started acting weird.” Sting added, a true sadness spreading across his face for a moment, before looking up at Rogue suddenly. “What happened?” Rogue sighed, shutting his book and putting it on the side, turning so he could face Sting better. 

 

“You know what happened.” Rogue stated, no emotion showing in his voice, tying his hair back into a ponytail and studiously ignoring Sting’s eyes. He knew that Sting knew, he knew that Sting hadn’t made any attempt to correct what had wordlessly happened between them one day, but that didn’t stop him blaming himself more than anything. He was the one that had fallen in love and the one that had somehow irreplaceably broken their friendship, making whatever they were something complex and confusing, pushing Sting into drinking and fucking girls and whatever else.  

 

“Bu… But why did it change us? We’re acting like… Like...” Sting waved his hand around in emphasis, dangerously close to Rogue’s face. Rogue tilted his head slightly, but didn’t respond, instead just narrowing his red eyes at a place just above Sting’s head. “You’re acting like I wasn’t in love with you first.” Sting suddenly said after a couple of moments silence, making Rogue jump and make eye contact with the blonde again. 

 

“What?” Rogue asked, eyebrow furrowing deeply, the scar on his nose wrinkling slightly from the exertion. “Say that again.”

 

“Why did it change us?” Sting said again, confusion etching into his features, Rogue rolled his eyes and fought the urge to punch him. 

 

“No, after that.”

 

“I was in love with you first.” Sting repeated, a childish tone to his voice. Rogue shook his head, disbelief spreading over his face. 

 

“You’ve got to just be saying that because you’re drunk.” Rogue said dismissively, already ready to reach over and grab his book again, but was interrupted by Sting putting a hand on his knee. 

 

“Maybe.” Sting admitted, shrugging and almost hitting his face into Rogue’s knee as he did. “But it doesn’t change the fact I love you, and I don’t understand why you finally loving me back makes us act like this… We should… We should be together, not even further apart than we were in the first place.” Sting closed his eyes, swaying slightly, and Rogue wanted to strangle him but instead went to get up off of the sofa. 

 

“You’re probably right, but you also probably won’t remember this in the morning, so I’m going to go to bed.” Rogue said, standing up and ignoring the sad look on Sting’s face. He was about to make his way to his room, but Sting’s warm hand grabbed hold of Rogue’s pale wrist, making him jump. 

 

“I know you don’t believe me, but, I swear I’m going to say this all again but sober.” Sting promised, a look of honest sincerity crossing his face, and Rogue just rolled his eyes, slipping out of the grip easily and going to his room. 

 

“Yeah, right.” Rogue mumbled, mostly to himself, shutting his door behind him and quickly sinking behind it. Screw Sting and the way he messed with his emotions, knowing him he would wake up tomorrow and not remember a thing, talking nonsense as Rogue made breakfast and tried not to throw the frying pan at his head. Rogue squeezed the bridge of his nose, shaking his head to himself and pushing himself up to shut the curtains. It wasn’t like Sting came up to him every time he was drunk and confessed his love, and it certainly wasn’t like Sting to talk about the way they had changed, but even the rarity of the event didn’t cement it’s honesty in Rogue’s mind, so instead he just shucked off his t-shirt and trousers, and folded himself under the sheets.

 

-  Sting’s POV   -

 

Sting didn’t want to wake up, but something in his mind was telling him that he had to, that there was something he had to do. He turned over, and belatedly realized that, again, he had fallen asleep on the sofa. Maybe they should get a sofa bed.  Or maybe you should stop passing out on the sofa,  a sensible voice in his mind told him, and he tried to ignore the way it sounded exactly like Rogue. 

 

Sting pulled himself off of the sofa, trying to ignore the way the room spun around him for a moment, and stumbled over to the bathroom, pausing outside Rogue’s closed bedroom door. Something about the light seeping out from under the door made Sting frown, wanting to go inside but not quite knowing why, something was trying to crack through in the deep fog of his mind, but instead of paying attention to that, Sting instead opened his best friend’s door and quietly walked over to the bed, slipping in next to the deeply sleeping form easily and closing his eyes. Maybe when he woke up again his head wouldn’t be pounding as hard, and maybe the light wouldn’t be quite so bright. 

  
  


Sting woke up for the second time that morning, vaguely disoriented, and very sore. Whatever he had done last night was now catching up to him horrifically, and as he half opened his eyes he was glad to see he was curled up next to Rogue rather a random girl. His mind double checked his memories, making sure he hadn’t done anything too stupid, when he suddenly froze, remembering something very important. Rogue decided to choose this exact moment to turn over, open one eye and raise an eyebrow at him. 

 

“I’ll make us pancakes in a bit, but first I’m going to have to ask you to shower. You smell like really stale beer.” Rogue said, letting the eye he opened slide back shut and pull the covers more tightly around himself. Sting didn’t move, and Rogue re-opened his eyes, a look of concern crossing his face instead. “Sting?” 

 

“I… I should really have a shower.” Sting tried, but didn’t make an attempt to get up, if anything edging closer to the pale body next to him. Rogue didn’t say anything, just putting the covers more evenly over the both of them and letting their legs tangle together. Sting sighed, watching Rogue’s red eyes carefully as he tried to put what he was feeling into words. “We’ve been really dumb.” 

 

“Yes.” Rogue confirmed, amusement making the corner of his eyes crinkle. Sting reached out, running his hand through the jet black tangle of Rogue’s hair, tucking some strands behind his ear. 

 

“I… I have loved you for a very long time.” Sting said quietly, focusing on the way Rogue’s hair was falling instead of making eye contact. Rogue smiled slightly, leaning forward slightly, but not close enough to kiss him. 

 

“And…?” Rogue prompted, propping his head up on his arm and raising an eyebrow. Sting looked away for a moment, before looking back and smiling. 

 

“We should be together, because you’re an idiot.” Sting teased, mirroring Rogue’s movements and propping himself up. Rogue gave him a look, telling him to shut up with his eyes, but Sting just laughed. 

 

“You’re an idiot as well.” Rogue replied, making Sting shrug. 

 

“Yeah, I am.” Sting agreed, finally bridging the gap between them and taking Rogue’s lips in his, feeling like home in his arms and like heaven in his lips. Despite being friends for years and years, they’d never tried this, so Sting wasn’t surprised at the sudden increase in his heart rate. After a couple of moments, Rogue pulled away, a blush spreading over his cheeks and hiding his face in Sting’s chest. 

 

“I love you so much.” Rogue mumbled into the blonde boy’s bare chest, making Sting laugh and Rogue’s head bob up and down a little. Sting didn’t respond, instead pulling Rogue back up to his level and pressing a kiss onto his forehead. 

 

“I need a shower, but I really want to keep kissing you.” 

 

“I won’t kiss you until you stop smelling like stale beer.” 

  
  


\-----

  
  


 -  Rogue’s POV -

 

It had been a few months, but the novelty still hadn’t worn off. Finally love had a tangible, reinforcing thing behind it, real and whole and warm, glowing and light. Rogue knew that really Sting was just human, and in reality his skin didn’t glow, but as they kissed and Sting moaned his name, light seemed to gather under his tan skin and pulse through his veins. Rogue never stopped loving the contrast between the complete lack of colour in his skin, completely smooth and clean, and the tan of Sting’s skin, rough and scarred, pressed messily against each other whether it was while sleeping or while Rogue was cooking and Sting pressed himself behind him. 

 

Both of them were laying on their bed, and investment that they had to go on a couple of jobs to buy, but it was worth it to see the expression on Sting’s face everyday when waking up. Rogue could tell that Sting was bored before even having to look at him, before even having to place the book he was reading on the side and turn to him, and the way he took Rogue’s book and threw it on the floor only reinforced Rogue’s instinct. 

 

“I’m bored. Let’s try something.” Sting said, already straddling Rogue’s lap. Rogue wanted to mention some hazy thoughts of plans and a vague idea of responsibilities, but his thoughts didn’t transcribe into words, so instead he just did like he always did, letting Sting charge in head first and trying to deal with the consequences afterwards. Sting guided Rogue’s hands to his waist, the ‘something’ he implied becoming more obvious as he reached over to the drawer beside them, pulling out a small bottle and setting it closer to them. 

 

“Sting…” Rogue started, panic and anticipation snaking under his skin in equal measures, the word ‘no’ not even coming to his mind as he watched the blonde haired man above him remove his shirt. Despite doing things like this before, they hadn’t had sex yet, and the idea of it intrigued and terrified Rogue in equal parts, but usually whatever fear was stopping Rogue just made Sting want to dive in and tackle it head on. “We don’t know what we’re doing.” Rogue said instead, trying to voice his fears without admitting he was scared.

 

“We can figure it out.” Sting dismissed, leaning down and kissing Rogue, quieting any protests he was about to voice and easing the layers of clothing off of them. After a couple of moments Sting pulled away breathlessly, looking down at Rogue in a way that made a heat roll through his skin. “I need you.” Sting said raspily, the atmosphere in the room changing quickly from playful to something else entirely. 

 

“Show me.” Rogue said carefully, watching as Sting repositioned himself. 

 

“I… I’m going to…” Sting started, already grabbing the bottle and spreading a clear liquid onto his fingers. 

 

“Yes.” Rogue said before he finished, already knowing he needed it before he even knew what the sensation felt like, letting Sting push his legs into a better position. Sting gently intruded, pushing his fingers in and holding onto Rogue’s thigh like his life depended on it. Rogue needed the grounding, something in him needing the pleasure pain and aching sensation. Rogue closed his eyes, trying not to buck his hips. 

 

“Is it… Can I?” Sting stumbled, already slicking himself and looking down at Rogue like he would eat him whole. Rogue nodded, eyes still closed and hands clutching into the sheet. “Tell me if it’s too much.” Sting commanded, no room in his voice for negotiation, and Rogue finally opened his eyes, nodding again. Sting positioned himself, slowly sliding in and holding onto Rogue’s thigh for support. The way his nails were digging into his skin was just the right amount of pain to keep Rogue in the here and now, keeping Rogue in his skin and here with Sting. Sting finally fully filled Rogue, taking a deep breath and immediately pressing a kiss onto Rogue’s forehead. “I… I love you.” Sting said, as if Rogue needed reminding, and Rogue panted in response, leaning his head into the bed. 

 

“I… I love you too, but please fucking move.” 

 

They went slowly for a while, Sting desperately trying to move deeper into Rogue’s body as if the contact wasn’t enough. Rogue tried to stop the embarrassing mewling sounds coming out of his mouth, but Sting seemed to enjoy them, desperately grasping at Rogue’s thigh and wrists. Rogue felt a feeling in his stomach and tensed, nails digging in hard. 

 

“Sting… I’m…” Rogue started, head back and mouth gaped, hair spread across the pillow messily. Sting didn’t let him finish, instead speeding up his movements and holding on tighter. 

 

“Come for me.” Sting commanded, making the heat under Rogue’s skin expand and envelop him, white blocking out his vision for a moment, before he came back to the real world stuttering Sting’s name. As he started to become orientated, Sting moaned loudly, mumbling his name and expletives, shooting into Rogue messily. For a moment, they stay silent in their positions, both panting instead of talking, a strange stasis. But then Sting giggled, planting a kiss onto Rogue’s nose and pulling gently out, making Rogue hiss. 

 

“Sorry.” Sting immediately apologized, rubbing the inside of Rogue’s thigh and pressing kisses into his forehead and cheeks. “I love you.” Rogue rolled his eyes, but let his hand roam over the expanse of the tan skin above him, smiling at the contact. 

 

“I love you too.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, have a Stingue one shot, I hope you like it!
> 
> There are like 4000 things I should be doing right now, so I decided to write this instead (dear god someone help me). 
> 
> I'm over at be-m0.tumblr.com if you want to talk to me, and as always comments and thoughts are highly appreciated! Thank you for reading!


End file.
